


One Man and His Van

by tcwordsmith



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Muscles, Pre-Slash, so close to crack you might fall in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1987410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcwordsmith/pseuds/tcwordsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert is the only one allowed to get excited about his desk.</p>
<p>Jean Valjean is not here for the slow burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Man and His Van

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I couldn't have written this without Wrenton, at whose feet I lay blame/ praise for pretty much all of my interest in this pairing and at least one other potential fic for them.

Javert is not a man given to deception, even toward himself.  He knows this, he believes this, and yet, here he stands in front of his beautiful, oak desk in the study.  It was a gift he purchased for himself, to mark his third promotion at the precinct.  It had taken three promotions to be sure he deserved such a desk.  In the end, it had been a practical purchase rather than an extravagant one.  After all, detectives were expected to work from home on any number of occasions, and he couldn’t have his case files strewn about the kitchen table, no.  He’d needed a proper desk, and so he’d purchased one.

Now, of course, he remembers that he _hadn’t_ brought it home himself.  He’d had it delivered and waited for four hours on not one, but two separate days off for the delivery men to bring it to his apartment.  By the time the piece had actually been delivered, Javert had ended up telling the dreadful delivery men to just leave it and dragging the desk from the living room into the dining area himself.

He stares at the desk a moment longer before switching off the lights.  At this rate he’s lost some of his half hour buffer between getting to work and the beginning of his shift, and thus lost time to go over the day’s cases before the morning briefing.  The desk will simply have to wait.

 

=

 

“Javert! I hear congratulations are in order—you’ve finally moved to your new place?” A detective two offices over says, sticking her head in for a moment after lunch.

Javert continues working on his report, “Yes, thank you, Detective Jameson, I have finally been successful in my search for a new home.”

She makes a tutting noise, “Marie, Javert. We’ve been colleagues quite a while so I insist you call me by my first name.”

“Very well, thank you, _Marie_ ,” He replies and manages to get three more sentences in before realizing she’s still standing in the doorway.

“So we’ll throw you a housewarming party next weekend?” Marie asks, almost innocently.

His head snaps up so quickly she startles at the sudden and thorough engagement, “No. I—What I mean to say is _no thank you_ , Marie. I haven’t had the opportunity to finish moving, it would be quite premature to—” There’s not exactly a good way to say ‘I don’t do parties’ at his age and they both know it.

She gives him a small smile, “I was only teasing, Javert.  But, I thought you closed a few weeks ago? Did something happen with your moving service?”

Hesitating now may as well be blood in the water so Javert hurries to say, “No, no.  It’s just been slow going, moving myself.  A bit more time consuming than I’d anticipated.”

“ _Javert._ Don’t tell me you’re moving all of your things by yourself?  Don’t you have some sort of ridiculously heavy desk? Hold on, let me get you the number for my friend’s friend—he’s got an excellent moving company!” Marie doesn’t wait for Javert’s dissent; she leaves the doorway and heads down the hall, quickly returning with a business card.

She drops the card on his desk, careful to keep it confined to an empty space and not on any of his files, “Seriously, he’s a great guy who could use the business!  Last time I bought a couch I called him.”

He looks at the card with some trepidation, “One Man and His Van?”

“He has a truck too, Van was just catchier,” Marie winks and heads out of the office, “Call him, tell them Marie recommended the service!”

The “One Man and His Van” business card is carefully paper clipped into place inside Javert’s day planner and promptly put out of his mind.  He absolutely does not want a moving service handling his belongings, let alone one he can’t investigate himself.  He decides he’ll just have to make do.

 

=

 

He does manage to make do, until the last of the boxes are packed and moved to the townhouse.  To his chagrin, he’s gone about the moving process all wrong.  With the boxes in the townhouse, there’s not nearly as much room to maneuver the furniture, which he still can’t move on his own.  Defeated for the moment, he heads to the balcony with an unopened snuff tin.  Surely, the problem will keep until tomorrow.

 

=

 

“Tell me we can we start planning the housewarming party?” Marie leans against the doorway to Javert’s office with a pair of coffee cups in her hands.  “How did the moving service work out—better than anticipated I hope?”

Javert fails to stifle a sigh and Marie takes it as an invitation.  Entering his office, she sets one of the cups on the coaster beside Javert’s hand. “Oh,” Javert stares at the cup for a moment, “Thank you, Marie.” Some surprise colors his thanks.  “I cannot tell you that, I’m not given to lying overmuch.  I…Have persevered in my attempt to complete the move on my own.  I’m sure your acquaintance is adequate though,” Javert takes a small drink of the coffee, even though he knows it’s after four and he shouldn’t.

Marie settles into the chair across from Javert’s desk. “You know, you really shouldn’t move the furniture on your own,” she insists. “At least consider calling him for that.”  She drinks her own coffee while Javert finishes another section of his paperwork.

“I…Shall consider the merits of your suggestion.  Thank you for the coffee, detective,” Javert says, turning more fully back to his work.

She stands, smiling, “You’re welcome, Javert.  Have a good evening.”  He nods in reply but doesn’t look up until she’s left.

The cup remains in its place until he packs up and closes his office for the night, well past his coworkers’ departures.

 

=

 

“One Man and His Van—oh how he’ll move you! Cosette speaking, how may I help you?”  A cheerful voice greets Javert after the first ring.

He clears his throat, “Yes, hello.  I am Javert and I was hoping to inquire about securing your company’s services as soon as possible.  I’m looking to move mostly large pieces of furniture—especially a large oak desk—from an apartment to a townhouse across the city.”

“Certainly, sir!” Cosette taps a few times and pulls up the schedule, “Oh! He’s just had a slot open for this Saturday, starting at nine in the morning.  If that would work for you, of course,” Cosette relays brightly.

Javert consults his day planner and notes he’s taken the full weekend off just for moving. “Yes, this Saturday would be acceptable.  Will that be nine sharp?”  He hesitates to pen in the appointment while waiting for verbal confirmation.

There are some more typing noises on the other end of the phone, “Yes sir, precisely at nine, until the job is complete.  He’s quite punctual,” she answers.

“Very well.  Punctuality is very important, after all,” Javert says, penning in the appointment.  “I’ll expect them at nine on the dot then.” Cosette helps him complete the deposit and reassures him they only expect full payment upon satisfactory completion of an assignment before he hangs up.

 

=

 

Javert is up with what sun manages to squeeze through the cloud cover on Saturday morning.  He’s made coffee and managed to read the paper by the time he hears a rumble on the street outside.  Looking out, he sees the “One Man and His Van” box truck carefully parallel parking on the curb.  A glance at the clock on the wall tells him it’s almost fifteen minutes until nine.  Early is is preferable to punctual in his estimation.  He watches the driver come around the truck and walk toward the call box.  Before he can press the button for Javert’s apartment, Javert presses the button to allow him into the building.  He goes back to the window to see if a second mover gets out of the vehicle, but the driver manages to knock at the door before anyone else gets out of the truck.

“Good morning,” Javert says politely as he opens the door.

“Good morning, sir! I am Jean Valjean and I have come to move you!” Jean Valjean smiles broadly.

Javert is at a loss for how to respond, “Pardon?”

Valjean’s smile only grows wider as he moves the conversation along,  “You mentioned to Cosette that you have a large, solid oak desk.  Might I be able to see it?”  He clasps his hands loosely behind his back and seems to vibrate with… With what?  Is he excited about the desk?  Javert’s gaze narrows suspiciously.

“I—yes. Let’s see the desk so you might inform your associate of any additional help you might require to move it,” Javert nods smartly and steps aside to allow Valjean inside the apartment.  He is careful to allow a solicitous distance between them but the hallway is narrow and his arm still brushes against Valjean’s arm and chest.

They move quickly through the small apartment and Javert steps aside when they reach the dining area he converted into an office space. “The desk,” he gestures to the piece of furniture and glances at Valjean.

“Oh, it is quite a nice desk,” Valjean murmurs, stepping into the room. “Clearly well made.”

He doesn’t detect any sarcasm, but surely the mover is mocking him. He thought he was alone in his appreciation of high end office furniture. “Yes, well, I…as you can see, it would be impossi—Sir?” Javert cuts himself off as Valjean squares his stance and hefts the table by himself.

“I-if you please, sir,” he grunts and Javert quickly moves out of his way, awestruck by the sudden feat of strength.  Valjean takes off at a steady pace, straining but clearly still within his capabilities, and moves through the apartment without breaking stride.

With a display like that, how can Javert do anything but follow?  Surely the man will falter, or tire, or require some kind of assistance.  He hurries to open the front door and Valjean smiles quickly before passing through and out to the waiting truck.

Javert waits until Valjean is at the truck and then sits in the chair by the window.  Because it’s out of the way, not because it gives him a clear view of both the and the sidewalk.

“Sir?”  Javert shakes his head and abruptly realizes he’s been zoned out watching Valjean move his furniture for the last…The last hour!

He quickly pastes a polite look on his face, “Yes? Do you require something?”

Valjean smiles and rolls his shoulders, “Only to move the last of the furniture, sir. Namely, the chair you’re sitting on? If you’re ready, of course.”

A less than subtle glance informs Javert that, indeed, the chair is the only remaining piece of furniture in the room. “Of course, I’ll just—” he mutters, standing up and awkwardly moving away from the chair.

It only takes Valjean another moment to load the chair and return to the living room. “—or shall I follow you over?”

“Pardon?” Javert asks.  He hates that his attention keeps being diverted.

“I apologize, I was asking if you’d prefer to ride in the van to the townhouse or if I should follow you there?” Valjean repeats himself but doesn’t seem put out by it.

Javert thinks for a moment, he _could_ ride with Valjean but, “No, no I’ll drive separately.  I’ll collect my keys and we’ll—” he pats his pocket and discovers his keys are still in it, “We can go. My keys are right here.”  He moves around Valjean, ignoring where they brush against one another again, and out the front door.  Valjean follows without comment and Javert locks the door once they’re both outside.  He’ll have to do a walk through the next day, but for now, he has no reason to return to the apartment.

 

=

 

Unloading the furniture takes twice as long because Valjean insists Javert direct him; he sees no reason to just put things down and leave them for Javert to move later.

“I insist! I couldn’t call my company full service if I left my customers to move their own furniture once it was inside their new home,” he demurs when Javert tries to stop him.

Javert sighs softly and murmurs almost to himself, “Well, if you insist,” before following Valjean inside to place the desk.

A neighbor or two makes their way over to greet Javert as he waits for Valjean to unload the pieces, each one with a polite word or a nearby restaurant suggestion.  It occurs to Javert that this neighborhood may be far more interactive than his last residence. He realizes this is something he should not have overlooked during the initial house hunting venture.

“Your neighbors are all very nice,” Valjean says solicitously, “I remember moving a few of them into the neighborhood.”

Javert nods absently, his mind more fully on where best to place the bed in the guest room.  “They do seem very…Neighborly,” he allows, belatedly realizing what exactly he’s said.

At the end, Valjean politely refuses the gratuity Javert proffers with a small smile. “All expenses are covered in the fee, thank you. It has been my pleasure, sir.  If ever you need a mover again, I hope we’ve won you over to the One Man experience.”

There’s no way he can answer such a statement, so Javert simply bids Valjean a pleasant evening and heads inside. If he watches the van drive off from the window, no one will ever know but him.

 

=

 

“How—damn, have you been sleeping…at all, Javert?” Marie steps inside Javert’s office and seems to hesitate at the chair across from his desk.

Javert looks at his reflection in the window and then at Marie. “I was up late,” he says shortly before returning to his work.

Marie raises an eyebrow and leans forward to set a coffee cup on his coaster, “But have you been up late for the last _week_? Because you look like you have.”

“I had some furniture to rearrange,” he doesn’t take his eyes off the report in front of him, though it’s only a small hope that she’ll simply go.

“Does that mean you finally finished getting moved then?” She asks, settling into the chair and squashing that small hope.

Javert looks away from his report again, “Yes, your recommendation was useful and the mover was both timely and efficient.”

“Jean usually at least places the furniture into the correct rooms for his customers,” Marie says,  settling into the chair.  She can wait until he’s ready to share.

“Yes, well.  After he departed I changed my mind. So I rearranged it to my liking,” Javert’s tone is clipped and Marie holds up a placating hand.

“Okay, sourpuss. Just building rapport with my coworker; don’t forget the captain wants us heading up the Rivera case next week,” She stands and heads for the door, unwilling to push him entirely over the edge.

He wonders if he should ask her for the number again.  He could claim he wants to give a referral to a friend, or just ask. Marie doesn’t need to know why he needs it because she’d likely give it to him regardless.  There’s no reason, no he won’t; he doesn’t actually need it.  Besides, he has no one to refer.  If he was going to lie, he hopes he’d at least develop a more well thought out one.

“I’m pulling together the brief as we speak,” Javert finally says.   Marie shakes her head as she passes through the doorway.

Marie sticks her head back into the room briefly, “Very well, Javert. But we’re working together on this one.  Don’t cut me out.” She points at him and he refrains from rolling his eyes until she’s down the hallway. “I saw that!” she calls, but he knows she couldn’t have so he doesn’t rise to the bait.

He would have regretted asking her for the number again anyway.

 

=

 

He stops at Marie’s office on the way to his own the next morning, with two coffees in a holder and a small bag with creamers and sugar packets. “I wanted…I didn’t know how you took your coffee,” Javert says awkwardly, stepping into her office once Marie looks up and notices him.

She looks at the coffees and the small back and smiles at Javert, “What’s this then? Are you reversing roles on me, Javert?”

“As I mentioned yesterday, your friend’s moving service was exactly as advertised,” Javert says stiffly, setting the small bag on Marie’s desk and casting a glance around the room for a coaster before setting the coffee down next to the bag.

“I’m very glad to hear that, Javert.  Jean is...quite the experience, isn’t he?” Marie reaches for the coffee cup and pulls out a creamer and two sugar packets, “Thank you for the coffee, Javert.  I’ll have to recommend more services to you in the future!”

Javert takes his own cup from the holder and drinks to cover his expression, “Yes, well, I was grateful for the recommendation, in the end.”

Marie stops him before he can get out the door and down the hall, “When’s the briefing?”

“We hadn’t discussed beyond ‘next week.’ I could forward you some dates after I check my schedule again and you can tell me which is amenable to your schedule as well?” he ends on a question, turning to wait for her answer.

“Thank you, Javert, I’ll let you know as soon as possible,” she says.  He nods and hurries from the room.

Javert’s in his office and through the first file of the day before he remembers he’d decided to ask for the number.

 

=

 

Two weeks later, Javert happens to look out his front room window and see an incredibly familiar van down the street.  He spends the next fifteen minutes determinedly working on washing the dishes he’d put in the dishwasher the night before, because why _not_ do it yourself if you’ve the time? Once the dishes are finished, he decides he could go for a walk.  Besides, he should find out why his neighbor has hired a moving van in the first place.

“Javert!” Benjamin, his neighbor, calls as he passes the other man’s house.  “Javert, hello!”  Benjamin comes to meet Javert at the end of the driveway, near the van.

“Good afternoon, Benjamin,” Javert says cordially.

Benjamin smiles and claps a hand on Javert’s shoulder, “Did they finally give you a day off down at the precinct?”

“Oh, I went in this morning, but yes, I take Saturday afternoons off now,” Javert replies.

“Well, hey! That’s something,” Benjamin says and notices Javert looking at the van, “Hey, yeah! You used this guy to move in!  Jean’s great, isn’t he? I swear he’s moved half the neighborhood.  Katherine wanted a new sofa, and I remembered taking down the number on the side of the truck outside your place a couple weeks ago,” he nods toward the door, where Valjean is exiting through the front door with a woman following close behind him.

Valjean sees Javert and waves. He maintains his ever present smile even as he listens to Katherine relate some story to him.  “Yes,” Javert replies, “He was most adequate and punctual too.”

Benjamin nods, “Can you believe he can just move the furniture by himself?  Even in my prime I couldn’t lift a damn sofa on my own. How he does it is beyond me.”

“Years of hard work and determination are what got me here, sir,” Valjean smoothly interjects into their conversation.

“Jean! I have to say I’m really impressed,” Benjamin says, putting out his hand for Valjean to shake. “Really, I am. Do you have business cards? I’d love to get some to my buddies at work.”

Valjean shakes his hand, but he glances at Javert as he says, “I actually only have fliers at the moment, but they’re in the front of the van if you’ll allow me to get you some?” He smiles when Benjamin nods and heads for the drivers’ side door, leaning in to rummage inside the van.

When he returns, he has a large stack in hand, “I appreciate the recommendation; nearly all my business is based on word of mouth.” He counts some out of the stack and hands them to Benjamin.

“Might I—If I could have one as well, I seem to have misplaced the business card,” Javert manages to say before he can stop himself.

Valjean raises an eyebrow, but nods and pulls out another one.  “Of course, sir. It was remiss of me not to leave you with one at the end of our appointment,” his smile softens. He starts to hand it to Javert, just as Benjamin claps him on the shoulder and heads back toward the house.  Before Javert can take the card, Valjean pulls it back and takes a pen from behind his ear. “Just in case,” he tells Javert, as if giving him a secret, “My personal number.” He braces the paper against his knee and pens something across the back.

Javert blinks but takes the flier when it’s offered to him again, “I—thank you.” He holds it without looking at it.  Valjean’s smile is smaller, more private than the one he’d had before, as he nods at Javert and heads to the van.

“I’m available any time, sir,” he calls over his shoulder.  Javert watches him drive off before realizing he didn’t respond.

 

=

 

At home, Javert takes the flier to his office and finds the file folder for business cards and information.  Before he adds it, alphabetically of course, curiosity gets the better of him and he flips it over. “ _Moving you, day or night, would be my pleasure—JVJ_ ” is written just below the phone number.

Javert feels as though he’s just been hit by a moving van as he abruptly sits down at his desk and contemplates his phone.

 


End file.
